


Holding Out For A Hero

by SereneCalamity



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 11:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SereneCalamity/pseuds/SereneCalamity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is feeling a little worn out. Destiel. OneShot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out For A Hero

**Author's Note:**

> So the title of the story is obviously not mine, given how many songs there have been. Hope you like the story!
> 
> Disclaimer: I obviously don't own the characters, or title, and only the mistakes.

Tired.

That was the only way he could really describe it.

He was really, _really_ tired.

His shoulders felt heavy, his eyes felt raw, his body was aching—he was just _so tired_.

Sam Winchester was back from the dead, and he had his soul, and they were all meant to be back together again. But things just weren't the same. Or maybe, things _were_ the same and he was just getting older. Too old for all this shit. Even when he actually managed to get a solid eight hours of sleep in a night—which wasn't very often—he woke and he was _still_ tired.

Dean Winchester threw back the last of his whiskey and slammed the tumbler back down on the sticky bar top, and he slid it back to the woman behind the counter.

"You want a refill, doll?" She asked him, pretty unnecessarily. Dean jerked his head in a nod and she poured him another double. She looked as though she was going to say something to him, maybe tell him to slow down, but then someone called to her from down the other end of the counter, so she closed her mouth and walked away. Dean picked up the drink and half turned in his booth, looking out over the club. It was pretty busy, most of them older men, but then a scatter of woman, a few of them younger who probably had fake ID's to get in.

"What are you doing, Dean?" Came the gravelly voice of the literal angel at his shoulder. Dean sighed as he turned back in his seat and raised his eyebrows.

"You stalking me now, Cas?" He asked. Castiel's perpetual frown deepened slightly and Dean just rolled his eyes, taking another swallow of the amber liquid. "What are you doing here?"

"You're in distress," Castiel's nose scrunched slightly as he looked around the club. "I'm here to help. I'm always here to help you, Dean." Dean sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, scratching at the few day old scruff on his face. Castiel was watching him, his eyes intently watching Dean in that way that the hunter both loved and hated. It was like Cas could see through everything that Dean tried to protect inside of him and it was something that scared Dean. "Let me take you home, Dean," he attempted.

"Ooh, at least pay for my drinks before you get me alone," Dean taunted and Castiel just rolled his eyes and sighed. "Have a drink with me, Cas," Dean said, holding up his hand to get the attention of the bartender.

"Dean, I don't think—"

"Have a drink with me, Castiel," Dean repeated, his voice harsher, looking over at him. Castiel stared at him for a few long beats before sighing and nodding once, sitting in the barstool next to him. The bartender came over and gave Castiel a tumbler with a double shot of whiskey, just like Dean, before going back to talk to the man at the other end of the bar. Cas threw the liquid back without a second thought and Dean sighed. "Can you just leave the bottle over here?" Dean called.

"You boys sure you're good for it?" The bartender asked with a raise of her eyebrows.

"He has multiple credit cards," Castiel advised the bartender without realizing how it sounded. She frowned and Dean sighed, pulling out his wallet and sliding one over the counter. She picked it up and made a face.

"Jason Bourne?" She asked.

"It's a coincidence," Dean gave her a drunk half smile. She didn't look like she believed him but she took the card anyway and swiped it for the bottle. It went through and she shrugged, handing it back. That was why he had chosen this bar. Because it was a tiny hole in the wall, and it they didn't ask any questions because it wasn't a high class place. "You need to pour yourself another," Dean said.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea, Dean," Castiel attempted again.

"You in here, Cas, you're drinking," Dean stated, giving Castiel a hard look. Castiel still didn't look happy but he went quiet and filled his glass again, taking a sip and then looking around the bar. The two of them fell quiet as they drank, just watching the other people in the bar, the couple of older men playing pool, the girls in the corner who were far past drunk and were now at the giggly and sloppy stage. They kept looking over to Dean and Castiel and then nudging at each other, and usually, by the time this had started happening, Dean would take that as his cue and go over to them. And then he would leave with one of them, or both of them.

Clearly Cas was thinking the same thing.

"Isn't that what you girl you usually go for?" Castiel asked, his voice stiff as he took another drink from the tumbler, looking down at the amber liquid at the bottom of the glass. Dean snorted and gave a shrug.

"I guess," he muttered. "Am I really that predictable?"

"Only to the people who know you," Castiel muttered. He finished his glass and didn't need any prompting from Dean to refill the tumbler. Dean looked over at the fallen angel next to him, who's shoulders were slumped slightly as he tapped his fingers against the side of the smudged glass.

"Well, I'm not going home with any of those girls tonight," Dean stated. Castiel didn't answer for a long few minutes as he swallowed back yet _another_ glass and then refilled it. Dean frowned, a little concerned at just how quickly the man was getting through the bottle. He was drinking faster than the eldest Winchester, which was worrying, given Dean had a lot more experience. "You might want to slow down a bit there," he noted.

"I thought that if I was here, I was drinking," Castiel muttered. He waved his hand above his head and the bartender came down. She didn't even question him this time when he pointed at another bottle. He paid for it and put it at his elbow after pouring another drink. Dean lifted his glass up to his mouth, looking across at Castiel before shrugging, drinking from his tumbler. He tried to keep up with the fallen angel, but Castiel was making his way quickly through the bottle, and his eyes were beginning to blur over. Dean was drunk, but Castiel was _really_ drunk by the time the bartender called out that they were closing up. Dean forced Castiel to put his arm around his shoulder so that he could help him out. They were practically shuffling back to their motel rooms, which was only a block away.

"Sam?" Dean called out as he fumbled with the lock on the door. There was no movement or sound inside and Dean growled, squinting to try and get his key in the lock. He finally managed to unlock the door and he and Castiel stumbled inside. "Sammy?" Dean shouted out again, not really thinking about the fact that it was after two in the morning and they might wake up their neighbours.

"Sam isn't here," Castiel grunted. "He's with the daughter."

"Anika?" Dean frowned. He thought back to the daughter of the motel owner, who obviously had something for his younger brother. She seemed like a sweetheart, with a bit of a sharp tongue, and she was a college girl as well. Sam's type. "Well, at least one of us is getting laid tonight," he muttered as he put Cas down on the end of the bed and walked into the bathroom. He flicked on the light and braced his hands against the sides of the vanity unit and looked at his reflection in the mirror.

The lines on his face looked deeper.

The corners of his lips looked as though they were pulled in a perpetual frown.

Even though he had been doing this all his life, he had never looked like this. He had followed in his fathers footsteps, ever since the night that his mother had died, and he had liked what he did. He liked the perks that came with it; the fancy guns, the gorgeous car, and pretty girls who were ever so thankful to him for saving their lives. He pretty much ran on adrenaline and alcohol.

But then there wasn't just ghosts and monsters. There were angels and demons. There was Ruby, and Sam drinking demon blood. There was Hell.

There was Cas.

There was Cas.

Castiel was his hero, even though he would never admit it out loud. Sam was his little brother and even though they had always had their differences, they had always had each others back. They had grown even closer in the past few years. But Cas...Cas was different. Cas went against everything he had ever been told, and his whole family, to be there for Dean and Sam.

Castiel was one of his best friends, and he was Dean's saviour, in more ways than one.

"You know I can hear what you're thinking," came a husky voice from the bedroom. Dean's eyes widened in horror and he straightened up, looking through the door to where Castiel was still sitting on the bed, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "I'm not trying to invade your personal circle, but you're thinking very loud."

"Bubble," Dean corrected him, trying to keep his words clipped. "Personal bubble."

"Right," Castiel shrugged, but his face was still hidden. "I don't understand why you enjoy this, Dean," he stated. Dean frowned and tilted his head to the side.

"Well, personal circle just doesn't really work," Dean replied snarkily.

"I meant drinking," Castiel didn't sound at all perturbed by Dean's tone. The man was used to it by now. "I feel sick. And the last time that I did this, my head hurt and the world was swimming. And now, I feel even worse."

"It's your humanity," Dean muttered. "Last time you had to drink a whole lot more to feel it in the aftermath. And now, given your fading, uh..." he winced as he waved him up and down. "Angelness, you're finding out what it's like when you drink way too much, way too quickly." Castiel let out another groan and this time Dean couldn't help but let out a laugh. He walked into the kitchenette and pulled a glass out of the cupboard, filling it with water and bringing it over to to Cas. The light from the bathroom was dim as Dean sat down on the chair that was opposite the end of the bed. "Don't drink it too fast or you'll puke."

"People have fun doing this?" Cas grunted as he took a few sips. "I don't understand."

"You've only been drunk twice," Dean shrugged. "It gets better. Plus, the chicks help." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his seat, his legs stretching out a little further, between where Castiel's legs were set apart. "If that's what you're into."

"Chicks? You mean woman?" Castiel confirmed.

"Yeah, girls," he shrugged.

"Or me," Castiel said and Dean blinked.

"You're into men?" He asked, one eyebrow arched.

"I don't know," Cas shrugged and had another drink from the glass, half-emptying it now. "But you are. You like woman _and_ men." Dean let out a short, shaky laugh.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, sounding a little nervous. Castiel didn't say anything for a long few minutes, finishing off the glass of water before finally looking up and meeting Dean's eyes. Dean swallowed hard as he looked back at his, for all intents and purposes, guardian angel, only being able to make out part of expression in the lighting from the bathroom door. As usual, his expression was completely intense and unwavering, and Dean felt something inside him clench, not for the first time since Castiel had stepped into his life.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, from what I understand," Castiel murmured. "And there really is no point in lying about it to me. Not when I know how you feel."

"How I—how I _feel_?" Dean rolled his eyes and exhaled heavily. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm your hero," Castiel said without any thought as to how unusual it sounded. Dean watched him for a long moment before he let out a short laugh and stood up, running his hand through his short hair. He shook his head at how blunt and unassuming Castiel's words were, but then his angel was standing and leaning in to give him a kiss. Dean blinked, at the fallen angels soft lips against his, too shocked to respond.

"Why did you do that?" He asked as Castiel pulled away. Cas looked just as stunned as Dean did and his eyebrows furrowed, swallowing hard.

"I, uh, I don't—I don't know why I, uh," he stuttered adorably. "It's my head," he finally concluded with a sigh. "It's all messy from that alcohol you requested I drink. I apologize for my actions—" he was cut off when Dean reached out and kissed him again, this time initiating the contact. Castiel more than happily stopped trying to talk, letting Dean's mouth warm his for a few seconds before they slowly parted. They stared at each other uncertainly for a moment before Dean gave a small smile and looked down.

"Maybe we should try that again when we're not drunk," he said quietly.

"I think so," Castiel nodded. And then, his lips twisted up at the corners in a part smile, and Dean couldn't help his grin.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! I love the reviews, they make me super happy :)


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